Writing Family Histories

Here's what I've been spending all my (very spare) spare time on:

"David John Barker and His Fathers"

It's an article about Brian's third (I believe) great-grandfather who, they just found out through DNA tests, was not actually his grandfather after all. I wrote it up based on the documents and information Brian's mother has pulled together through her years of research. What's really interesting to me, these people worked so hard to cover it all up and they had no idea that 150 years later we'd be able to uncover the secret. Fascinating story, actually, I wish we knew more details.

See? That degree in Family History is good for something, after all. Now, if only I had more time than two hours twice a week, I might be able to make something of it. (Except, Grandma watched the kids for me while I wrote for her and I'm not sure I'd be able to work that into other writing contracts...)

Boise Break

The boys had a four-day weekend from school a couple of weeks ago. When I asked how they wanted to spend their vacation they chose a trip to Grandma and Grandpa Camper's house in Boise, Idaho. So we piled into the car and headed up for several days a beautiful fall weather, the apple harvest, marathon legos for the boys, Grandma for Maggie, and a suddenly Mama's-girl Becca. We stayed a couple of extra days so we could see Aunt Tori and cousin Owen for a little bit before we headed back to Utah and school and reality.

The Five Grandkids

Trick or Treat

Nathan, who had been running a fever all day and woke up from a nap only a few minutes before heading out the door to trick-or-treat, dressed up as Indiana Jones. We found that jacket at D.I. and dyed it dark brown, everything else in his costume we already had. Let's hear it for cheap costumes!

Matthew, or His Majesty King Matthew the First, went as, well, a king. His costume cost the most of all the kids' this year, but we had a lot of fun hot-gluing fake fur and jewels everywhere we could, and it still came in under $20.

Maggie was a "scaredy cat". After pictures, she took her ears off and refused to wear them trick-or-treating. Oh well.

And Becca dressed up as a bunny...a vicious, pumpkin-chomping bunny...who finally started sitting up by herself this week!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Happy 9 Years Old!

Last Friday, Nathan had a late-night Indiana Jones birthday party (it was supposed to be a sleep-over but his friends couldn't spend the night so they went home at 10:00 pm). They ate pizza and a green snake birthday cake, played some Indiana Jones party games that Nathan planned, prepared, and directed--that's the way to run a birthday party--and played Indiana Jones Lego video games until their mothers came to take them home. I think they could've played all night, they were having so much fun.

Fall Sports

Nathan and his team of Gladiators played their last game of flag football last week. With Nathan's best friend's dad for coach and Brian as assistant coach they had a great fall season, winning or at least tying every game. And they all had a great time, which is the whole point. Right?

Matthew's last soccer game of the season is this weekend. Without a game or practice every day, maybe I'll finally have some time to keep up with this blog.

If Only Time had a Remote Control

You know those moments when things seem to happen in slow motion and you see catastrophe coming just before it strikes? And at the back of your mind you're thinking, "Where's pause? Where's pause?" That was me on Saturday as I watched Becca reach for the lid to a can of formula I was opening with one hand while I held her with the other. My mind was screaming, "Crap, she's going to slice her finger!" but the rest of me was too slow to respond and her poor little thumb caught the edge of that infernal formula can.

I grabbed a napkin, pressed it on the cut, and ran downstairs to consult with Brian. Peeking under the napkin, it definitely looked deep enough for stitches. So, leaving the kids with Brian's friend, Matt (who was visiting from out of town) Brian and I jumped in the car and sped off. After driving in the wrong direction for a few minutes, trying to remember where the stupid Urgent Care was, we finally found one and rushed in just as it started pouring rain. I walked in the door and asked, "Can we get stitches here?"

"Sure," the girls at the front desk said. "Who needs stitches?"

And then I realized that I looked like I was carrying a blanket, not a baby, because I'd thrown one over her to dash through the rain. So the nurse and doctor came out and tch-tched and looked at the thumb and got blood everywhere and told us she'd be alright but the only thing they couldn't do was put her under.

I held my poor little crying baby in my arms as I sat in the chair in the, would you call it a procedure room?, and tried to calm her as they prepped her heavily bleeding thumb. They had to put a tiny little rubber tourniquet on it and then they pumped it full of anesthetic until it looked like a white hot dog and finally started to sew it back up.

Even though she couldn't feel the pain anymore, Becca still wailed. Then it hit me that she'd never eaten that bowl of cereal I'd been fixing with that blasted can of formula because we ran out the door instead. And here I was holding her to my(fully-clothed) chest while all these people were holding down one of her arms and and no one was letting her at the milk that she knew was right in front of her face. Oh, she was so very angry. She screamed and screamed and screamed until she was so exhausted she started falling asleep, only to startle back awake and scream some more. I think it would have been better if Brian had held her for the sewing part. As soon as they finished up, I whipped out the blanket and said, "I'm just going to feed her right now, if you don't mind."

The male nurse ducked out of the door rather quickly. But the female doctor said her husband had just brought her own baby in for her to nurse and she didn't mind.

Becca finally got her meal and fell sound asleep and when she woke up at home later that evening, she didn't seem to remember her terrible ordeal or mind the giant bandage on her thumb. In fact, she just thought it was a new pink chew-toy.

Oh, my poor little Rebecca. I'm so sorry.

Up Up and Away

As I was fastening this scarf around my shoulders this morning, Maggie asked,

"Are you Super Mom?"

And I realized: Yes, I am Super Mom. And now I have the hot pink cape to prove it.